Burnt
by Agar
Summary: reposted Rinoa realized the fire of love is gone and let's Squall go. Heartbroken, the Ice Prince seeks solace in and old...friend. (SxS) Rated for language and Seifer's naughty hands.


Author's Notes: Well, this has been buggin me for a while, but I just now got around to editing this and reposting it (thank god). I managed to fix most of those werido symbols.  
  
TO EVERYONE WHO WAITING FOR ME TO UPDATE SHAMEFUL TIES...I'm sorry. It is dead. But I ll bring it back to life one day, I promise! But that Flame of Inspiration is godd for now.  
  
BTW, the address for where "Training Skills" is posted is as follows: http://www.geocities.com/agonyswhisper/gravitation.html That is Rain's site.  
  
Song fic to AFIÕs "A Single Second"  
  
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Burnt  
  
Part One of Two  
  
by Agar  
  
. . . . . .  
  
It was the wee hours in the quite autumn morning when Rinoa came to a decision while out at Balamb Garden's Front Gate. Dark storm clouds hung over head and rain threatened to fall. It was a gray dawn, bleak and dismal, that mirrored her disposition, and no cheery song birds sang in the nearby forests. A light mist had settled over the Isle, and only the rise of the red sun would melt it. Dew hung on the of blades of grass out on the plains, the light hitting them and creating the illusion of a million tiny lights covering the ground like a blanket. A dreary morning, cold and biting, and the slightly built asian girl could not bring herself the appreciate the irony or the situation. On this worst of days, she would have to make the worst choice. She had realized, as she had suspected for weeks already, that her worst fears had surfaced. Once again, she would be alone.   
  
And now, she had to face it head on, and there was no turning back to the warm comfort of the past months life at the Garden. With her head held high and a firm step to convince herself of her confidence, she walked back inside of the place that had been her home for the past few months and wished she didn't have to say good-bye to her first *real* home, the one she would return to seeming dull in comparison.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
'Then she saw Tylendel dart out of the tree-shadows to her right and race past her, past his fallen lover, and back into the temple itself.  
  
And her heart went cold with a sudden premonition of disaster.  
  
She forced her exhausted legs into a stumbling parody of a run, but she wasnÕt fast enough.  
  
Just as she reached the place where Vanyel lay, panting and moaning in pain, she saw his head snap up as if in response to a call only he could hear. He seemed to be looking up at the Tower that held the Death Bell. She heard him cry out something unintelligible, and followed his horror stricken glance-  
  
...and saw Tylendel poised against the lightning-filled sky, arms spread as if to fly-'  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Knock knock knock *bee-BEEP*  
  
Squall growled in his throat as he slipped his bookmark in-between the yellowed pages of a rather worn paperback book. 'Damn! Of all the times...'  
  
He heard the familiar knock on his door and the sound of a card key registering in the security lock, signaling Rinoa's presence. Setting down the thick book on his small plastic bookshelf, he climbed out from under the warm, thick cotton covers of his bed, shivering from the cold air coming in contact with his creamy skin, and threw on a wrinkled black muscle shirt over his naked frame and put on his gloves, out of years of habit.  
  
The same sound an air lock makes when opened greeted Squall's ears as Rinoa slid past the threshold, blue woolen sweater tail trailing behind her boot dressed legs. Her face was unusually grim and lined with sorrow, and Squall was instantly on the alert. He said nothing, but waited for her to speak.  
  
Rinoa looked down at her feet, what she was about to say obviously troubling her a great deal. "I wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?" she asked hesitantly, hoping against hope that he would be busy, or she had to come back at a later time...but no.  
  
"Yeah," Squall muttered. He knew something was seriously wrong and he wouldn't like hearing what she had to say, but pushing her to talk wouldn't do any good.  
  
Sighing, Rinoa sat down on the single folding card chair in the corner, dragging it up to the side of the thin bed near where Squall was sitting cross legged. She reached out a blue gloved arm and took his hand in hers and began to study the pattern their intertwined fingers made; ebony leather and ivory skin, woven together in symbolic joining; black and white, yin and yang. One of the leather clad hands moved from Rinoa's grip to cup her cool cheek. Squall tilted her heart shaped face up to meet his.  
  
"...Rinoa?" His voice had the light hint of concern dusting its deep tenor that lingered in the air for a split moment after he had said it, like the last note in a song.  
  
Oh, how could she say no to that lovely face, that soft voice, that...everything. The man she feel in love with and swooned over every time he came into view simply because it was him. It was a hard, difficult battle to remember what she was here to accomplish, what she had to do for the better of herself and her beloved. But with his gentle caress, she melted like she was made of butter and he a hot knife. That he could still make her mind swim and heart flutter from an overdose of ecstasy (A/N: no pun intended! *sweat drop*) was heart breaking. She brought herself to gaze into his eyes, and prayed she wouldn't lose herself all over again in their endless depths of gray sapphire.   
  
Squall lightly stroked her face and locked his cool, intense gaze with her own one, to find him evenly matched with. Her coffee eyes lacked their normal hue, so full of light and happiness, now weighted down by some unseen force that so burdened her.   
  
Rinoa turned her gaze away from him, her onyx and hazel streaked locks falling in to her face and hiding it from view. It was just as well. She didn't want him to see her cry. Not now. Not this time. She had always been the weak one, the helpless girl who her hero would always rescue her in times of trouble. This time, when it counted most to her, she would be strong and stand firm.  
  
Rinoa sighed. "I...Squall, this just isn't...working." At his blank look, she continued, thinking that maybe if she could get through this he would too. He had to have know things were not going smoothly in their relation. When the kissed, there was not longer that powerful scorching desire there once was, the feeling that they had been engulfed by blackness and that in this blackness they were all that mattered had long since been gone. He must have sensed the love was gone by now. Or had he been so deprived of love and affection as a child that he hardly recognized what real love was?   
  
Rinoa kept talking. ''I have been thinking a lot these past few days...about us." Her voice hitched in her throat and she had to fight herself to keep speaking.  
  
"...When we first got together that night on the balcony, it was like a romantic fairy tale come true; the helpless princess and her knight in shining armor who comes to rescue her. That was always my dream, and when I met you, it wasnÕt as farfetched as before. It was too good to be true.Ó An empty, winsome smile crossed her face and made her appear all the more depressed.  
  
''But recently, we seem to have grown apart... WeÕre just not as close as we once were."  
  
"During the war, we both needed someone to help remind us what we were fighting for wasn't as far off as it seemed, and it was convenient for us to be together. But afterwards, we were just acting the part everyone wanted us to play. Destroy the enemy, get the girl, and live happily ever after. But we were pretending, and both of us know it; the hugs, the kisses, the smiles. It was not real. And I donÕt want to go on acting, Squall." She became silent.  
  
'Oh my god...'  
  
Squall's hands yanked away from hers like they had been burnt, startling Rinoa out of her trance. She looked up at him and felt a sharp , stabbing pain in her heart at the look of horror and fear, and worst of all betrayal, on his stricken face. Not even when fighting Ultimecia had he shown these emotions to strongly and openly without reserve, so acute in their intensity it stung. This just shows how much Rinoa had changed him over the past few months, her optimistic and outgoing personality as contagious as some demented virus.  
  
"DonÕt get me wrong; I love you more than anything. You are the world to me, and I wouldnÕt be able to stand something happening to you. But we just were not meant to be. You learned to love. I learned to lose something that means most to you." She sniffed, trying to keep the tears that threatened to fall at bay.  
  
"I'm sorry," she murmured in a near whisper, more to herself then Squall.  
  
Something shattered in his chest into a million pieces at hearing that. 'My god, this can't be happening!' She really was leaving him. 'Just like Ellone did...'  
  
Suddenly, the room seemed to small, threatening to cave in on him. 'I can't stay here.' He jumped up from his bed and pulled on a pair of black leather jeans over his boxers, yanked his jacket off the wall and rushed to the door, desperate to get ad far away from her as possible and try to forget everything. Forget the way she used to smile at him and her eyes would sparkle, they way his knees would sometimes feel weak. Forget the words she just said to him, and the words she said that night...  
  
"Squall, wait!"  
  
But he didn't listen and choose to ignore the pleading voice. He was insane with misery and pain, too far past the point of caring about anything to even realize she had spoken. Taking one last look at the girl he loved, he turned away and stepped out the door, leaving behind his heart and soul and praying to whatever god would listen that he never got it back so he could never be hurt again.  
  
'I can't believe all that I have foreseen is finally happening.'  
  
. . . . . .  
  
It was eleven o five and the students were just beginning to make their way from he dorms and classrooms to the cafeteria to beat the daily hot dog rush. Among the hoard of cadets and SeeDs was Lt. Zell Dincht, martial artist, world hero, and hot dog lover. With the inane and useless ability to eat over a dozen hot dogs in one sitting, he made a fairly large dent in Balamb Garden's food supply. The cooks feared him, the student's envied him, and his mom was just worried about the food bill.  
  
Zell half walked and half bounced down the hallway in his overly large and abuse sneakers, dodging past students when he spotted, barely visible in the distance, a small black dot that could only be Squall Leonhart slowly walking into the Quad. Zell's eyes lit up and that shit eating grin plastered his face as he picked up his pace and jogged over to his friend and comrade.   
  
He slowed down as he came within a few feet, his crest of golden hair wavering slightly in the breeze. "Hey man!" he called out. Squall did not respond and acted like he had not even heard him, which was impossible given ZellÕs normally loud voice was magnified by the hallway to the point of nearly deafening.   
  
"Uh, Squall?" Zell crinkled his brow and stepped up behind Squall, placing is hand on his shoulder as if to turn him around. The brunette flinched away and refused to meet ZellÕs eyes, instead continuing to walk into the empty Quad.  
  
He was halfway down the stairs when he heard Zell again. "Squall? Come on man, yer scaring me." Zell asked him, sounding genuinely concerned. But then again, when did ZellÕs emotions become anything but genuine? He watched and waited for Squall to answer, and when he did, Zell was positive something was seriously wrong with his friend.  
  
"Fuck off, Lt. I want to be alone," was SquallÕs deadpan reply. The words washed over Zell like ice cold water and made the hair on the back of his neck prick.   
  
Zell narrowed his eyes and shadowed SquallÕs path, intent on worming some answers from him if it meant attacking him from behind and tickling him (he even knew were Squall was ticklish, long story). Squall never called him "Lt." Unless they were at a meeting or on the field. He reached out again with his gloved hands, this time forcing the lithe brunette to swerve on his heel and acknowledge him. And when he did, he regretted it instantly.  
  
This was the only time he had ever seem Squall Leonhart cry, and it was disturbing indeed. No one ever wants to see a grown man cry, least of all the man you depend on with your life. He was a hero and by all standards, unbreakable. When Squall cries, you are supposed to see pigs flying outside and atomic bombs destroying the world, it was that unlikely and unthinkable. But here he was, all the same, crystalline tears sliding down his pale cheek. Somehow, someone had hurt him. Badly. Perhaps he was more fragile than everyone thought he was and was only strong because *someone* had to be. For in reality, Squall had fractured and withered.  
  
'I cannot for a single second stand the way I feel.'  
  
"Whoa man, what happened?"  
  
Squall reached up and brushed the tears off his cheek with his arm. He saw no point in getting around the truth, and Zell would find out anyway. Plus, Zell had become his best friend and Squall was not about to lie to him. "Rinoa...she broke up with me."  
  
Zell gasped and looked at Squall with such pity it hurt. Squall did not want pity, and he knew it, but in times like this it was hard not to. Pity did nothing to help, but instead made Squall feel even more disgusted with himself for breaking down in public.  
  
'I always knew. I always saw it coming.'  
  
Pulling Squall into his tight embrace, he tried his damnedest to comfort the sullen brunette, ignoring how Squall tensed when he felt the gentle touch. Zell was suddenly hit with image of himself years ago sitting on his bed, his own mother holding him in her arms and telling him everything would be all right when his pet goldfish, Fred, died. However stupid it seemed, he tried to mimic his mother's gentle words and actions, whispering to Squall that eventually, things would work out. It was a lie, and they both knew it, but it was nice to dream. Besides, even if Zell could not help and things didnÕt turn out all right, he could try and make it less rough on the already emotionally scarred brunette.  
  
"Its okay, man. Things will turn out okay, and Ill be there for ya."  
  
Then the dam broke. Despite all his efforts to hold back the tidal wave of emotions that threaded to overspill their restraints, Squall collapsed in the smaller man's hold, sobbing onto his shoulder and not noticing the nylon cloth of Zell's jacket turning dark with tears. He shook from grief and sadness, and didn't have the will to regain his composer, too mad with unbearable sorrow.   
  
Zell ran his hand in circles on his back, trying to calm Squall down. He was never good at comforting, but he thought he had the general idea down. He lead Squall over to a bench and let the brunette cry until the tears refused to come and only the scorching emotionally pain remained, a smoldering fire slowly burning Squall's heart and turning it to bitter ashes.  
  
And so it burned.  
  
'Enveloped now, encased by my worst fear.'   
  
. . . . . .  
  
Several hours after the incident in the Quad, Zell had left his friend alone when Squall requested time to brood over what all had taken place today. Although Zell was loath to leave him, he knew Squall was adamant about it and needed to think, so he had obeyed and left. Since then he had been aimlessly wandering about the second floor with nothing to do when he (literally) ran into Seifer Almasy, newly reassigned at Garden and now a high ranking SeeD.  
  
"Oomph!" Zell rounded the corner and smacked into the gray, trench coat clad chest of someone much taller than him. He rocked back on his heels and stumbled before regaining his balance. He rubbed his nose and fixed his bangs, then smiled up at the looming Seifer. "Hey Seifer! Sup?"  
  
Seifer smirked and shoved his hands in the large pockets of his trench coat. "Busted those damn junior class men trying to get away with smoking in the bathrooms. Scarred the shit out of Ôem. Other than that, it's pretty fucking boring. I stopped by Leonhart's office to bug him and drag him down to Balamb for lunch earlier, he still owes me some booze from when we last went clubbing, but he wasn't there..." He paused when he noticed the uneasy look on Zell's face at the mention of Squall. He narrowed his eyes. "You know something I don't, don't you, Chickie? Something about Squall." He took a menacing step forward and Zell took one back.  
  
Zell fiddled with his gloves restlessly. "Well," he began. "Yeah, but, I don't really know if I should tell you." He bit his bottom lip with his sharp fangs.  
  
"Why not? Don't trust me?" he asked, his voice dripping with anger like snake venom. "Does Squall not trust me?!"  
  
Seifer grabbed the front of Zell jacket, hoisted the younger man off the ground a few inches and brought the tattooed youth's face up to his snarling one in a (now rare) show of undiluted anger. "All right, *Chicken*. You're going to tell me, nice and quick. What. Happened. To Squall. And if you don't fucking tell me this *instant*, I'll tar and feather you and make you a living example of the poultry you are!"  
  
Zell struggled in Seifer's grip. "Don't take it out on me! It's not my fucking fault Rinoa dumped him!" Zell instantly paled when he realized just what he said and went limp in Seifer's grip. "Fuck."   
  
'Good going, genius! Yet again, ya put your foot in your mouth.' Zell mentally berated himself.   
  
Seifer promptly dropped Zell unceremoniously on the ground from shock. "...What?"  
  
Shuffling his feet, the short blonde tried to melt into the walls and somehow become part of the scenery of the Garden hallway. It must not have worked, because Seifer didn't begin frantically looking around for him. Instead, his face still registered surprise and disbelief, a sight on Seifer AlmasyÕs face.  
  
"Um..." Zell stuttered. "Well, Rinoa broke up with Squall."  
  
Exasperated, Seifer slapped his face and glared at Zell. "I already know *that*, Zell! Why?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, Zell started to explain, all the while fidgeting nervously under SeiferÕs Glare of Death. "Rinoa told him earlier today that they had to break it up; something about not really loving each other anymore. He ran off to the Quad and I found him there. He..." He trailed off, reluctant to finish and it hitting him like a sledge hammer that this was an extremely serious and delicate situation he had just gotten thrown into and was about to drag Seifer with him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Zell struggled to complete his sentence. "He... He was crying Seifer." He looked down, unable to meet SeiferÕs piercing green eyes and instead pretending to be suddenly fascinated with his shoelaces. "When I found him, he just...broke apart..." 'Like he was made of frozen glass...'   
  
Zell looked up to see what SeiferÕs reaction was, but the tall blonde was already gone, his coat tail billowing as he ran down the hall at top speed.  
  
. . . . . . SeiferÕs Point of View . . . . . .  
  
I gazed at Zell expectantly as he paused in mid sentence. "Yes?" I prompted, hoping that this wasnÕt going to be as bad as I thought it was. A sudden promotion told me things were about to go from bad to utter shit.  
  
"He... He was crying, Seifer. When I found him, he just...broke apart..."  
  
...Oh dear god.  
  
I donÕt know if Zell was going to say anything else, but I had turned on my heel and was already off and running to the elevator, dashing inside and jabbing a black gloved digit at the 1F button. I had heard the important parts, and nothing else had to be said, in my opinion. "Squall" and "crying" was enough to make me run a world marathon.  
  
Squall had always been a permanent part of my life, a pillar, if I might use the term, whether I was willing to admit it or not. Since we were too small to remember (GFs or no GFs to destroy memories) he had always been there. Not necessarily for *me*, but he was there all the same. From the shores of Centra, to the Dollet Radio Tower, he was at my side whether I liked it or not, and most times not. When we grew older, that relation became more significant. I was the reason he took up the gunblade, and we both became damn good with them, too. He even scarred me with his Revolver, more than once. We were the soul reason we strove to become what we are today. That doesnt say much for me, but on his part, I made him a hero. And what thanks do I get? Shit, but thats not the point.  
  
We had each other when we had no one else. He was all I had to depend on, and he I. That never changed after over a dozen years. And these past few months, we got to be friends...sort of, but it was more of a truce.  
  
But now, Zell Dincht, another old friend (more like a punching bag before, but now we are on speaking terms; he sometimes buys me my morning coffee, anyway) just told me Squall Leonhart AKA ShivaÕs Bitch, the indifferent bastard, is in tears, fucking *tears*, down at the Quad. He HAS NOT cried since Ellone was taken away back at the orphanage. Something is seriously fucked up, and I intend to fix it before it gets out of control.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
A few minutes later, I was standing outside the Quad entrance, wondering if it was the best idea to burst inside and probably scare the living shit out of a man who was standing on the brink of insanity, and its a thin ledge, let me tell you. Squall had made a hobby out of putting on a convincing facade in front of everyone who ever meet him, especially me, despite how pointless it was. We could read each other like a book, act or not, and tell exactly what we were feeling at every moment. All I had to do was look in his eyes, and it did not matter if he had a poker face then; those beautiful blue eyes told me everything. But sometimes, it was best not to know. Thats why we tried so hard to be the tough guy. But I suppose Rinoa throwing their relation in the trash had been a kind of breaking point for him, which is why his mask cracked and he is crying right now. And considering all this, saying he would not appreciate me waltzing in right now is a sever understatement...but I *had* to see him.  
  
Cautiously, I began to descend the first set of stairs in the Quad, looking around the blue and yellow interior for any sign of the sobbing brunette. He wasnt in sight, so I concluded he had wanted some fresh air and had gone out to the balcony. I still had the chance to turn back around, but I was reluctant to leave him alone when he needed someone most. So I continued searching.   
  
I reached the second half of the Quad and I began picking my way though the assorted wires and stage equipment, the junk left over from preparations for the Garden Festival. Ill have to chew out Selphie about the mess later.   
  
When I cleared my path, I looked up from the scattered debris. I saw him standing several feet away from me, his back to me and face tilted back so it was just on my view...and I think my heart stopped.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
End Part One of Two; "BURNT"  
  
To Be Continued in Part Two of "BURNT" 


End file.
